Whispers For A Dark Heart
by FarTooComplicated
Summary: Murderous brother trying to kill me? Yep.  Parcelmouth in Gryffindor? Correct.  Best friends with that prat James Sirius Potter? Of course.  Possibly falling in love with that sexist prat?  Er, that's not so okay...  Welcome to hell which is my life!


_A/N: Hi! I am actually rather pleased with this, so review if you want more! This is second generation Harry Potter fanfiction, so if you don't like oc's (Which is perfectly suitable for a story which has yet to be defined, in my opinion) you are perfectly able to click off this right now, and go read some lovely decent fanfiction by an amazing author. Go ahead. I don't respect flamers, although negative criticism is fine. For those left, ENJOY!_

**WHISPERS FOR A DARK HEART CHAPTER 1**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**Scarlexta POV**

The only fricken way I'm gonna get on that bloody train is to either drop my trunk of "very important" stuff and pelt it, or just try and jump to a very possible near death and climb through a possible hatch in the top.

The way this crowd is thickening, it doesn't seem as though either bloody possible. Muggles and their safety, they're like my eagle over mice. Even he has more sense then these guys do, I mean, what kind of person lets a 12 year old, **alone**, onto the platform with a very pointy, pretty stick, an eagle, and a whole trunk full of spell books?

I suppose I did tell them I was part of a west-end theater troupe. Me and my stupid "lie before you get yourself into trouble tongue".

I shot through the crowds, my black cloak swirling, and my trunk being dragged haphazardly behind me. Clutched in my dark, long fingers was a bright gold ticket, flourishing the insanely random numbers that were "Platform 9 ¾". I'd been to a wizarding school before, called Freeziake in Italy, which was basically a magical boarding school for stuck up sonuvabitc-.

Bloody hell. Am I really that late?

I dived through the ticket gates, ignoring the confused and slightly concerned looks I was getting from the Muggles. Probably worried I was lost or something.

Well, I had no parents or family to go back to, so why the bloody hell would it matter if did get lost?

Unfortunately, that was looking like a huge possibility right now.

As I ran headlong into the wall I so desperately hoped was the "magical you-dissapear-right-through-it-wall", the train was already pulling out of the ancient gun metal grey platform and beginning it's stomach-turning long journey across God-knows-where, with many overly emotional parents weeping at the sidelines.

Yep, I am now certain that this is the part where I jump. Believe it or not, I'm not suicidal.

My name is Scarlexta Crimmsomnia Eris Lamenta, and to most people, I probably seem utterly insane...but can I deny that?

Ha, I wish.

I flung myself at the trains smooth ruby body, grasping onto its slippery brass ladder, with only years of Quiditch and Horse riding practice keeping me on. I heard the terrified gasps of the parents, and heard the rattles of the glass as a bunch of shocked first years pressed their faces against it to get a look at the loon that just jumped their train.

Once safely under that frickin' death trap of an exit tunnel, I walked cautiously along the steel and copper roof of the train and towards the hatch. I loved the feeling of the wind in my messy brown hair, and the rush of the trains engine underneath me, however cheesy that may sound.

I made my way over to the glittering glass hatch and pried it open and to drop through it, only to hit my head on my trunk and land rather unceremoniously on my butt in front of a terrified first year.

"Ah, er ...sorry?" I said, smiling slightly at the girl.

"Why did you just drop through the ceiling?" she asked, her bushy red hair bobbing with her movements. Funnily enough, she didn't say that in a "What the fuck are you doing, you nutter" way, but more in, err... awe.

Weird.

"I was late for the train, so it was either jump or get annihilated by those post owls." I gave her a sort of half smile which she happily returned.

I bent down to her level, which was surprisingly low considering she was but a year younger than me ready to propose the question which would certify my arrival at Hogwarts.

"Do you know where the second year's compartment is?" I asked, watching her eyes light up at my words.

"No, but there is a boy in my compartment who just came down to check on us from the second year compartment, he could show you, I'm Rosie Weasley by the way, what's your name?" she asked, ignoring my expression of bewilderment at her enthusiasm. Wow.

Oh, right, name... shit. Name.

I was hoping she wasn't gonna ask that.

"It's Scarlexta Lamenta" I muttered, trying not to hang my head in pure unforced embarrassment,and peeking nervously at her expression.

You would think my name was bloody Voldemort's..

"Lamenta?" she yelled, earning more than a few intrigued yet pissed glances from the group of sixth years hanging nearby.

"What are you doing here! Shouldn't you be at Beuxbatons or Freeziake?" she whispered, gazing up at me, steadying her feet as the train jolted underneath our bodies. "Your like wizarding royalty!" she yelped, waving her arms around like a loon.

Suppose I can't talk. I **did** just jump onto a moving magical train.

"Can we please just find the compartment?" I pleaded, taking hold of her wrist gently and guiding her wandering arms back to her sides.

"Yeah, yeah.. right." she said offhandedly, grasping my hand and pulling me down the narrow corridors, the scent of well worn carpet and dust filling my nose as we struggled through the loose trunks and cases to the compartment.

After what felt like having to walk the entire length of the train, my nose was now suitably filled with age old dust and the suspiciously familiar smell of an unusual smoke (Who knew wizards smoked weed? I suppose it is 2017...)before arriving at what was possibly the most empty compartment yet.

"Everyone is in there, I'm just going to the trolley." Rose said as she skipped away, leaving me to pull open the glass sliding door and poke my head inside.

Inside a blonde boy with skin like snow, a boy with messy black hair and a vauguely familiar face, and a blonde haired girl were chatting avidly away to two tall second year boys.

"Sorry, do you know where the second year compartment is? Rose said you guys know." I asked, pushing strands of my messy copper fringe out of my eyes and looking around.

I didn't quite expect to just get silence and gasps.

_Go figure._

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

_A/N: Wow, that did take quite a while, since I don't really have a plot for this... It's probably going to be a James II/OC story, but it might take a while to develop, cause I get the feeling Scarlexta isnt really a girly-ish romantically aware sorta girl._

_Also, this is my first fic, so be nice people, please?_

_Check out my dA account for some graphics to go with this story, might help you understand what they look like._

_Next chapter is from James POV, so be sure to be looking out!_


End file.
